domingo, 31 de mayo de 2015

English poems and songs



FIRST AND FOREMOST.

First and foremost,
write a poem.
Try to do your best.
Every morning,
not complaining.
A being thrown into the fire
is really the worst.
Catapults or tirachinas,
crumble on your side,
the scene is very frequent
when your guest house
is gloomy and it sparks.
Don’t worry about
asking for my advice.
I’ll tell you all
I instinctively know.
Life is full of surprises,
and
You are my Lord.
Liability and Happiness
are hard to describe.
Levitate in the herb-garden
of your beautiful mind.
Drug is damage
prescribed
in a garbage dump.
Intravenous Poems beat
about the bush,
commodities market
is a hot pursuit.
Believe me, nice pupil:
It’s time to be good.
Don’t worry about
asking for my advice.
I’ll tell you all
I instinctively know.
Life is full of surprises,
and
You are my Lord.

AFTERMATH
To Sylvia Plath.

Life is changing hands.
Everybody is here
but "We are alone"

bellows the sky.
The world is around us.
Wake up, my dear.
Neither Insomnia nor Fur
belong to us
and there is a bright shadow
on your face
and there is a light
on your navel, so
you have reached an impasse.
The monster of your scene
is no more near by.
Your breath oozes with damp
right now.
I know you, darling,
Your aren’t a Jewish princess,
even if you are mine.
Just a middle class baby crying
that your nightmare is getting
worse than ever.
Open your eyes,
Up and down.
don’t slip,
don’t sleep
with a beautiful suicide.
Bad dreams are hectic rivers.
Forget your fears
And come.
Peer into this new verve
your old mind.
Record these words,
Sylvia
and be fine.


Exquisite corpse
Para J.G. en el día de su fallecimiento.





A journal of letters and life
chases the pools
in Mississipi River.
want to go to Memphis see my baby again,
to answer my questions…
I am a fool on the hills,
just singing in the rain.
Dixie On My Mind

Evolution is a bonus track
Development is a dead stop enough.
Tryin' to live my love without you babe

To define a winner.
Is a hard thing,
Damages are promises
Happiness, a myth.
We can’t afford to be paralyzed.

Civilization is carrying an impact:
Hang up your ego Amelioration,
Loneliness´ so dark.

God save the Nation.
Not looking for anyone.
Wildest Commander Retires
after rankling bosses,
by Heart

A journal of letters and life
spreads our voices.
Loneliness´ so dark.







jueves 3 de abril de 2008
THERE IS A POETRY...

There is a gap
in the chain link fence,
There is a fight
in pre-emptive defense.
There is a start
in the back of the offence.
There is a pillow
over the nest of decadence.
There is a tale
to make any sense.

There is a poetry of the absurd
there is bad poetry in dog’s turd
there is no poetry in rancid curd.

There is a map
illustrating the past;
there is a right
to make it last
There is a part
to stand fast..
There is a willow
weeping in the beer cast.
There is a sail
surrounding the mail mast.

There is a mask.

There is a poetry of the absurd
there is bad poetry in dog’s turd
there is no poetry in rancid curd.





La adivinadora, de Edward John Poynter.





DESPONDENTLY NAKED.



Despondently naked;
blinking against the light;
declining what people are likely to lament,
the guest star is waiting for his tip.

The flourishing man desires her skin.
Suffocated under his velvet
the manhood is scrappy.
Who can guess Future
on a dividing line
of wanting and hardening?

Sugar beet,
sugar cane:
Nobody
between you and your patron saint,
Nothing
between transparency and madness.

She is really pretty.
Suddenly,
she understood Divine Providence,
Inspiration and Revolution.

A spark of Faith in human beings
is getting a divorce,
this sad night of a stone-cold summer
in a temporary drop in temperature
during a heavy season.




domingo 4 de mayo de 2008
EXQUISITE CORPSE.


Exquisite corpse
Para J.Guinzburg. en el día de su fallecimiento.









A journal of letters and life
chases the pools
in Mississipi River.
want to go to Memphis see my baby again,
to answer my questions…
I am a fool on the hills,
just singing in the rain.
Dixie On My Mind

Evolution is a bonus track
Development is a dead stop enough.
Tryin' to live my love without you babe

To define a winner.
Is a hard thing,
Damages are promises
Happiness, a myth.
We can’t afford to be paralyzed.

Civilization is carrying an impact:
Hang up your ego Amelioration,
Loneliness´ so dark.

God save the Nation.
Not looking for anyone.
Wildest Commander Retires
after rankling bosses,
by Heart

A journal of letters and life
spreads our voices.
Loneliness´ so dark.



sábado 15 de marzo de 2008
AFTERMATH

To Sylvia Plath.



Life is changing hands.
Everybody is here
but We are alone
bellows the sky.
The world is around us.
Wake up, my dear.
Neither Insomnia nor Fur
belong to us
and there is a bright shadow
on your face
and there is a light
on your navel, so
you have reached an impasse.
The monster of your scene
is no more near by.
Your breath oozes a sweet song
right now.
I know you, darling,
Your aren’t a Jewish princess,
even if you are mine.
Just a middle class baby crying
that your nightmare is getting
worse than ever.
Open your eyes,
Up and down.
don’t slip,
don’t sleep,
beautiful suicide.
Bad dreams are hectic rivers.
Forget your fears
And come.
Peer into this new verve
your old mind.
Record these words,
Sylvia
and be fine.



THINK ABOUT…

The blows of the World War,
The sounds of Consolation,
The heavy line of your mouth,
All the money of our nation.

The narrow alleys of the soul
The dark verb of Constellations.
The footsteps of foreign people
This karma of bad inspiration.

We aren’t smart people
if we stay alone,
You need somebody here
no longer than yearning
for answering the phone.

At least you were hurt,
with scars or bloody deepness,
don’t give up from start
we’re passengers in life
trying to solve a business,

trying to survive be abandoned,
not physically injured,
but still broken,
and stolen by painful
and perjured pundits.

We aren’t smart people
if we stay alone,
You need somebody here
no longer than yearning
for ringing the phone.

Go out and direct the movie
contact a friend right now
in an quick interview, at net,
or buy a cow.

Don’t blame me I’m the messenger
to tell you this stuff,
I don’t believe a word,
your fate is predicted like a guff.











CRIMINAL DAMAGE


This is my new song
on the stage, harsh wind.

I am twittering your criminal damage,
like a silly goose in briefs.

Did you mean to say hello?
I couldn’t hear it.

I’m sore at you, and disappointed,
numb with grief
fooling around in the corner,
Now, you’ll see, soft tyrant,
I need an editor in chief.

I did make love to you,
did it nicely,
sincerely did.
You left me to my fate
on the road,
with no question nor response:
yes or no.
What a chaos!
What a bind!
In spite of the fact
I survived,
changing the rules of the game
full of buffalos
under my skin
while I was scared,
yellow slime,
fleeing from your memories
to be ousted of my Times..
I ought to bid you Farewell,
as a soldier caught red-handed
in the crossfire of his war passport life.

Did you mean to say hello?
I couldn’t hear it. Bye.










THERE IS A POETRY...

There is a gap
in the chain link fence,
There is a fight
in pre-emptive defense.
There is a start
in the back of the offence.
There is a pillow
over the nest of decadence.
There is a tale
to make any sense.

There is a poetry of the absurd
there is bad poetry in dog’s turd
there is no poetry in rancid curd.

There is a map
illustrating the past;
there is a right
to make it last
There is a part
to stand fast..
There is a willow
weeping in the beer cask.
There is a sail
surrounding the mail mast.

There is a poetry of the absurd
there is bad poetry in dog’s turd
there is no poetry in rancid curd.









The threat.



God:

We'll have to really thrash this one out.
I was living in hell several years
to be a happy man.

Seven days a week I faced devil’s menace.
I was turning into a threat to my people.
Surrounded by heinous drunkards,
pederasts and big cheaters,
I passed over you, my Boss.

On the altar of fame, in the Bar,
too many lies were told me about your presence.

A holy Table in a Temple or Church
gave me an unjust and criminal verdict.

So, after a time of absence
I took the best decision of all:
to give up, throwing the towel
and come back
to our filthy world
of unreligious innocents
trying to forgive the illusion
of the urban grey.

I am in Paradise, now.
Angels play with us.
I’m praying on bended knee.
Believe me, Great Father.
I am crying with joy.
I’m feeling peaceful
as a rainbow after a wetted day.
---



Life is so easy, baby.


Life is so easy, demon.
You just need music and food.
Life is so easy, baddie.
Don’t be grumpy, in a bad mood.

Life is so easy, baby.
What a good title for a Lennon´s song!
Life is so easy, lemon.
Neither a long revival nor a white lie.

Give me your phone number, sugar.
Be nice.
I´ll speak up, while you take notes
or listen to the radio, or do what you like most.
Maybe, you already know my style.
I´ll wait for your heart, dear ghost,
without pushing your answer up.
I like you so much.
Too much to leave you, dolphin pup.

My hope for the future is no one
as you can see, right now.
We don’t need to move the house
If we live beneath the stars.

Follow me on the road.
Here is my hand.
Come on, Lucifer.
Life is so easy if we try hard.

I won´t promise you a big wealth,
but my love will be the best
and strongest brand.

Life is so easy, lady-killer.
Don’t be grumpy, in a bad mood.

Life is so easy, baby.
What a good title for a Lennon´s song!
Life is so easy, fallen angel,
Neither a long revival nor a white lie.



When I met Joachim (the name of my Muse) 


in former times
I thought I could die in his arms
he was the most wonderful person
I could expect to feel,
he turned into my soul
like a sign, very nice indeed.
He slept in my mind
resting overseas.

My heart was crying hard.
He gave me excitation and
and never, never call me back.

And I loved him so much,
so much.
I felt we were getting older
and older in eternity.
We went about in a daze.
Tell me why
he isn´t here any time.

Our love seemed to have wings.
Now, I miss him day and night.

The net bird is full of dust.
as dry as my heart.
The storm was a real dump
when I open my eyes.
I am down, down, down.

What does the Bible says:
¿are there spirits on earth?
If so, he was the messenger
of the Fire since his birth.

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